The Forrest City times., 1887-11-26
Just then tho be.u,,fn, ,,o. -.,..s

Just then the beautiful face was raised to the window, as though somewhat 'impatiently seeking more light, and |. then when the light fell more fully up- on 1t, and every sweet line was plainly shown, he knew no matter who lay buried in the vault at Clihe, that this was Marguerite Stair. He tried to utter the namo Marguerite, he tried to i, cry out, but his lips were still locked I and dumb; after a time the paralysis left him, and he turned from the door. He went up to the matron, who looked in wonder at his pale face.
 "Iou must open that door," he said: "This woman there is one risen from | the dead"
 The matron in a quiet voice spoke to the governor, who came to Lord Stair.
 Have you identified her?' he asked.
 "1es," was the reply, ''she is a wom- an risen from the dead.n
 Captain Mayne looked at him, half thinking he must be mad.
 "I tell yor." cried Lord Stair, "that you must open the door, that must see her, must speak to her. If the sun shines in the skies, if there be truth in heaven, if am not mad, but sane and l h | thief and prisoner, is my wife, Marguerite Stair; my wife whom l believed I saw dead more than sevcn- teen years ago."
 'lt is impossible :" cried the matron.
 "It is quite true" repeated Lord l Stair, "open that door; I must sec her must speak to her alone." The matron looked at the governor Q tlv hat .h should do.
 "Under the circumstances" sald | Captain Mayne, Lit will be best c. do "l am sure it is right" l. cried, eagerly. "Y ou can see there Is some great mistake, some terri .s mystery. My wife has been dead more tan sev- enteen years-yet she l~ss there. If there should be any 'a.te aality, never mind will make | ! right. Open the door and let gJ in alone"
 Both govern ,,A matron were too surprised ta fl any resistance; tAey were accn ,t fne to every kind of ec- centric ,, but woman said to be risen from tie dead was certainly . novelty to thy .i.
 Lord Stair watched like man in .
 
 opened. He went in alone, the gov ernor and the matron both drew back. He closed the door. No human eyes should look on that scene-if this wom- an were really Marguerite his wife.
 She was sitting with her back to the door, and her face to the window, the better to catch the light for Der work. It was strange coincidence that the prh had mt reached tho window Of the cell, should, at the very instant, suddenly shine full upon 1t, and send golden light on the bare walls, for blessed be the goodness of heaven, the sun shines everywhere. Neither workhouse gates nor prison gates can shut him out.
 The sunlight forced its way in 1t fell on the graceful figure, on the deli cate white la.Gs, on tue beautiful face, and the prison cap. SAe d.d not look round at the opening and closing of the prison door. The matron was in the habit of paying her little and unex- pected visits. He went up to her. Only Heaven knew the agitation, the emotion, the passion of pain and sus- pense that tore his very heart-only Heaven knew.
 "Marguerite," he said, slowly. He saw the sudden tension of her figure, the sudden shudder. "Marguerite," he repeated, "for Heavens sake rise, and let me see if 1t be you r'
 He never forgot the cry of despair that came from her lips. 1t was not of joy at his coming, at his recognition of her; it was cry of unutterable despair. She rose as he repeated her name, the work dropped from her nerveless hands. Sine stood quite stlll; then, with another most bitter cry, she buried her face in her hands.
 "Marguerite," he repeated, "you are in very deed and truth my wife, whom all these years 1 have mourned as deadn
 No, mo-" she cried "I am--'
 But he interrupted her with passion ate eagerness.
 "Iou are my wife-you are Marguer- ite; it is useless to deny it. I know your volce-your face. 1 have seen you, watched you. I know you. Oh. my Marguerite, why do l find you here? What is this mysteryp Why are you here? wonder that the first shock of seeing you did not kill me ''
 She did not answer or stir. He went nearer to her. He tried to draw her hands from her face.
 "Marguerite, let me see youl 1t is useless to struggle with mo. 1 will see you-I will speak to you-I will un- derstand this mysteryw
 Slowly he drew her hands away. It was useless to contend with him, or to make any further effort. He had found her.
 "Marguerlte :" he cried; "the same, yet how changed. Oh, Marguerite, my lovel"
 For some minutes he stood looking at her in silence-his emotion too great for words. Great passionate sobs seemed to rend his heart. At last he spoke to her again.
 "Marguerite," he said, slowly, ''put me out of this pain and torture of sus- pense. Tell me that l am not carried away by any delusion-that 1 am not mad-that l am not cruelty deceived by likeness to the only woman have el CT loved in my life. Tell me-speak to me-surely to Heaven Ihave suffered enough? Are you the Marguerite Nairne whom I wooed and won at Inis- fail9 Are you the wife who made the sunshine of my home-the mother of my child-the fair sweet woman for whom l have mourned all my life? Speak to me, tell me-"
 He will never forget how she stood up before him, the faint sunlight falling over her, wrlnging her hands with gesture of almost sublime despair as she answered him.
 ''I am that most unhappy of women, Marguerite Stair" she said, slowly.
 His face flushed; a strange light came into his eyes.
 "You can say that calmly!" he cried. "Oh, Marguerite how cruel you have been to mel You have left me all these years, left me without hope or comfort, left me to think you dead; you have dsrkened eighteen years of my life, and for what? fot what? An swer me that question if you can! for what?"
 A thrill of defiance went through her at the sound of those words. She raised her head with proud gesture, one familiar enough to him; he had